All It Takes
by Techno Skittles
Summary: 100 moments, 100 stories, 100 souls, 100 themes. Sometimes, 100 is all it takes.
1. 030 Under the Rain

**Under the Rain**

A string of notes wove into a soft, fast-paced melody and overtook the small, dim room. The intricate notes were beautiful, flowing gracefully and smoothly. The song danced fluidly upon whichever pair of eardrums it came into contact with.

Mr. Nickerson, the pianist teacher, nodded his head in approval at the music emitting from the black, grand piano. He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose then placed one of his wide hands on his student's shoulder.

The music stopped abruptly as the small child looked up at his teacher. His sad, bored expression stared lifelessly at Mr. Nickerson who in turn pursed his lips and ran his other hand through his wavy, dark brown hair.

"You're free to go, Soul. That's enough for today," he said and gave Soul's shoulder a light pat. "Go on," he urged.

The corner's of Soul's mouth upturned into a small, unnoticeable smile before nodding and sliding off of the piano bench. He walked over to the coat rack and removed his black jacket from one of the low hooks. "Thanks, Mr. Nickerson!" he called out as he grabbed his umbrella and walked through the doorway.

"Sure," Mr. Nickerson muttered as he walked over to his desk and grabbed a pack of cigarettes. "Go do, I don't know, little kid things."

Soul hopped down the steps of the front of building and put his umbrella up just in time for droplets of rain to slide off the slick material. He looked through the haze of the rain to the empty street, frowning at the lack of his parents' limo. He sighed and asked himself if they would _ever_ pick him up on time.

The albino-haired child dragged his feet across the soaked concrete until he reached the end of the sidewalk and stared at the street.

_'I wonder if mother and father will let me play soccer,' _he thought as he looked up from the ground. He shook his head, dismissing the thought immediately. His parents would _never_ allow him to do something so - what was the word that they used? - degrading. He shoved his left hand into his dress pants pocket and rocked back on his heels. Music was all they cared about because it was so elegant.

The rain began to pour down harder, thumping onto his umbrella faster and more often. The soft whish of the rain hitting the pavement thundered in his ears. The rain fell so thick, he could hardly see past the block. A desperate whimper climbed up his throat from the thought that he could be standing in this for more time until his parents finally remembered to take him home. Goosebumps prickled his arms as the harsh wind bit through his jacket. He hoped that they would come soon.

Soul looked down the street, watching for the familiar black stretch limo to cruise down the street, inviting him inside away from the cold rain. When it didn't come, his frown deepened and his shoulders slumped.

What if they had forgotten him? Or just couldn't be bothered to come get him in this downpour? No. His parents were strict, but never neglectful.

A sob broke into his thoughts and Soul's head jerked to his right. The source of the sob came from a metal bench. The rain pelted down on the bench, making it clang and vibrate. But on the bench sat a girl who looked to be his age, give or take a year. Her soaked hair was pulled into two pigtails that drooped onto her shoulders. It looked brown, but the water probably made it darker than its true color. Little water droplets could be seen collecting at the tips and falling off into her lap. She was wearing a pair of jean shorts and a yellow T-shirt, both soaked and clinging to her thin frame. Her feet sported dirty, floral flip-flops.

She was. . .strange. She was exactly the opposite of everything he had been brought up to believe. Her clothes were indecent and informal, her shoes were definitely _not_ appropriate, especially for weather like this, and she was without a jacket in the cold rain.

Yet. . .it intrigued him. She was so different. He hardly saw people like her in his neighborhood. Their idea of dressing casual was a sundress or some khaki slacks. But this girl, soaked in the rain, was nothing like he'd ever seen.

So, wanting to know more about her and the reason she was crying, Soul walked over to her slumped form. He stood there for a few seconds, pondering on how to get her attention. Then, out of common courtesy, he held his umbrella out over the girl's head, ceasing the rainfall on her.

Noticing this, the young girl looked up at him with tear-filled green eyes and her lip trembled. She wrapped her arms around herself and said in a small, scared voice, "I can't find my mama."

Soul stared at her for a second or so before asking, "Where was the last place you saw her?"

The little girl blinked and more tears fell down her glistening, wet face. She used her arm to wipe her eyes and Soul cringed. He was brought up to never use his sleeve or his arm to wipe anything. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief and held it out to her. She stared at it in confusion before feebly taking it in her small, frail hands and dabbing at her eyes.

"She g-got mad and left the house. S-so I left too so that I could f-f-find her. But now I'm l-lost and I don't know where she is!" she cried. More tears fell down her cheeks and she rose the handkerchief to catch them. "And now I'm sc-scared and I don't know what to do!"

Soul jumped when a car horn sounded from the street and he looked back to see the black limo. It honked again and he turned and began walking towards it. _'Finally they've come!'_ he thought relieved. Just as he reached the door, his hand froze on the handle. He looked over his shoulder to find the girl sitting there on the bench, clutching his handkerchief tightly to her chest and sobbing again. Occasionally her eyes would glance up to him, sorrow tainting them before she looked down at the ground again.

Ignoring the calls of his mother's voice from inside the limo, Soul swiveled on his heel and jogged back to the bench. The girl looked up at him in shock before holding out his handkerchief. "I-I'm sorry. Here."

The silver haired boy reached out and grabbed the young girl's wrist. "C'mon! I'll help you find your mom!" He gave her a small, reassuring smile. "I'm Soul."

The girl looked up at him in gratitude and she smiled shyly. "Maka. Will you really help me find my mama?" she asked hopefully.

Soul pulled her off of the bench and dragged her to the limo. "I'll try. But first, I have to tell my mom."

He pulled open the limo door and was greeted by his mother and older brother, Wes. Wes smirked at him and crossed his arms, anticipating the scolding that was sure to come to his younger brother.

"Soul Eater Evans! What are you doing? We need - Oh! Hello there!" Soul's mother greeted Maka whose hand was still gripped in Soul's. She hid behind him, nervously peeking at the two people in the limo.

"Mommy, I met this girl and she can't find her mom and I promised I'd help her," said Soul.

The platinum blonde blinked. Then she smiled warmly and motioned for Maka to come closer. "Come here, sweetie. Do you know where the last place where your mother was?" she asked.

Maka emerged from behind Soul (who was only a few inches taller than her) and took a nervous step towards Soul's mother. "She left the house when she got angry and I tried to follow her but I got lost and now I'm scared!" she said in a rush and ended with a choked sob. Soul's mother's face fell and she gently pulled Maka onto her lap and hugged her.

"You poor girl! Oh. . .we'll help you find your mother, don't worry!" she said. She waved her hand, motioning for Soul to close the door to the limo. Once he had, the limo began moving slowly down the street.

"Honey, do you know where you live? Perhaps we can talk to someone there," said Mrs. Evans. She ran her hand down Maka's wet hair as Maka shivered on her lap and wrapped her arms around herself.

Maka's face scrunched up in concentration before she finally muttered a quick "273 Mort Avenue." Mrs. Evans repeated the address to the limo driver who gave a short nod in response.

"We're headed there right now, okay? Do you have any idea who might be there?"

Maka sniffled and shivered again. "M-my papa might be there. But he's angry, too." Her teeth began clattering and Soul's mother frowned.  
"Wes, honey, can you get me a towel from the lower compartment right there. This child is freezing!"

"Maka."

Mrs. Evans blinked and faced Soul. "What did you say?"

Soul's eyes flickered to the wet, crying girl in his mother's arms before returning to his mother's flawless face. "Maka. Her name's Maka."

"Maka," she repeated. She nodded her head. "Maka."

A towel was placed on Maka's lap by Wes and Mrs. Evans picked it up and wrapped it around her. "There you go. Now you won't be so cold."

The rest of the ride was silent except for the soft crying from Maka and the whispered assurances from the woman's lap that she sat upon. Soul watched silently, still staring in admiration at how this girl was so different yet so interesting. Wes sat off to the side, silently pouting at the lack of punishment for Soul.

The limo slowed to a stop and Mrs. Evans looked out the window to see a tan house with a drowned out yard standing before them. There was a narrow porch with a small roof overhead that led to a large red door. Three slim windows were aligned in a row at the top with a brass door knocker right below them. "Maka." The young girl lifted her head. "Is this your house?"

Maka stretched her neck and looked out the dark tinted window and nodded. "Yeah. That's my house."

Mrs. Evans nodded. "Okay. Will you come with me to talk to you dad?" she asked.

Showing a little bit of hesitation, Maka nodded. "Alright." She slid off of Mrs. Evans's lap and removed the towel from her shoulders and dropped it on one of the seats. The limo driver opened their door and held out an umbrella for them to stand under. Soul's mother walked awkwardly out of the car in her beige high heels, gripping the door for support.

Maka glanced at Soul one more time with a sad look before hopping out of the car onto the sidewalk. Mrs. Evans took her hand and walked down the sidewalk, the limo driver on their tails with the large umbrella.

Once they had reached the door, Mrs. Evans gripped the door knocker and banged it three times before letting her hand rest back at her side. A smashing of glass was heard from the inside and Maka gripped Mrs. Evans's hand tighter.

"He's still angry," she whimpered into the woman's dress.

Mrs. Evans glanced dance questioningly at her. "What did you say, Maka?"

Said girl lifted her head up to speak when the door swung open and a blast of cool air hit them. Maka shivered involuntarily and pressed into Soul's mother's body for warmth.

In the doorway stood a man in askew clothing and bright red hair that hung down to his shoulders. His clouded blue eyes were hazed over and slightly unfocused as he stared the two of them down, a scowl on his lips. He reeked of alcohol and smoke and Mrs. Evans's dainty nose scrunched up.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

"Hello, I'm Jane Evans and I believe you are Mr. Albarn?"

"Spirit." His chest heaved with a short cough. "Spirit Albarn. Now what do you want?"

Jane's hand absently ran down her dress, smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles in the material. Her other hand slid from Maka's grasp and placed itself between her shoulder blades. "Your daughter was out lost in the rain and my son found her. I'm here to return her."

A silence dropped onto their conversation with only the rain to fill it. Spirit's head lowered to look at his daughter. His hands gripped each side of the door frame as he bent down lower to Maka's eye level.

"Papa?" she squeaked peeking her face out from the creases of the dress. Her wet bangs flopped into her eyes lifelessly and she looked through them at her intoxicated father. "Papa? Where's Mama?"

The instant those words left her mouth, Spirit's face twisted in rage and he jerked up straight. His left hand closed into a fist and trembled in pent up anger as he rose it above his head. He slammed it into the door with all his might, producing a loud _bang_ which caused both Maka and Jane to jump. Maka whimpered and hid her face in Jane's dress again who wrapped her arms around the crying girl.

"That good for nothing Kami just up and left us! What the hell am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to take care of a kid all alone? What did I do to deserve this?" he shouted, banging into the door repeatedly.

Jane lifted Maka off of the ground who curled up into a ball and rested her head on Jane's shoulder. "I think I'll just come back later, Mr. Albarn when you're feeling. . .uh, better." Without a second's delay she turned on her heel and walked off the porch to the safety of the umbrella. Banging could still be heard behind them as they walked briskly down the sidewalk to the limo, eager to get away from the drunken rage of Maka's father.

"Papa was so sad about Mama leaving and he just sat there. But then he got mad and so he started throwing things around. I got scared because he was yelling so loud and looked so mad, so I went to go find Mama to tell her. But I couldn't find her," Maka whispered as they stepped into the limo. The limo driver shut the door behind them as Jane sat down on one of the seats, still holding Maka. Wes and Soul threw them questioning looks, only to be brushed off.

Maka lifted up her head to look directly into Jane's eyes. "Do you think they'll ever be happy again? Do you think that they'll stop yelling at each other and have fun?" she asked quietly.

"Mommy, what's she doing here? I thought you were taking her home," spoke up Wes. He tugged on the sleeve of her dress. "So why's she here with us?"

Jane used the pads of her fingers to gently press Maka's head back down on her shoulders. "I don't know, Maka. Why don't you just rest for now? I'm sure you're tired." The young girl nodded her head and closed her eyes.

Mrs. Evans then turned to her eldest son. His hair, which was white just like Soul's, hung limply down to his shoulders and his tired red eyes looked up at her with curiosity. Her eyes flickered to Soul, who was sitting across from them, who had the same tired, curious expression. They were both anxious like little school girls gossiping at the lunch table and Jane chuckled to herself.

"Maka's father isn't feeling well, so we're letting her spend the night at our house tonight," she replied and fingered one of Maka's pigtails. Maka had fallen asleep quickly after she had laid down on her shoulder and her face was full of peace. "Won't that be fun?"

Wes crossed her arms. "I don't know. I mean, she's a girl after all." He turned away and looked out of his window.

"What's wrong with letting a girl spend the night?" asked his mother.

"Isn't that something that boyfriends and girlfriends do?"

Jane hesitated for a short moment before answering. "Well, I suppose. But that doesn't mean that she can't spend the night."

Ignoring the last statement, Wes looked across the limo to his younger brother who was sitting there, staring at his shoes. "Does that mean that she's Soul's girlfriend?"

At that, the albino pianist's head snapped up. His crimson eyes narrowed at his older brother and his hands clenched into fists. "Ew! No way! I don't want a girlfriend! She just needed help!" he shouted defensively. He threw himself against the back of his seat and crossed his arms. "She can be your girlfriend. I don't want her."

"Now boys," snapped Jane. Both Evans siblings immediately silenced and turned to their elegant mother. "That's enough. She's not anyone's girlfriend; she's just a friend who needs help." She looked at Wes pointedly. "And is spending the night." She swiveled her head to face Soul. "Is that clear?"

Both boys nodded and said in unison, "Yes ma'am."

* * *

"Honey, wake up. We're here."

Maka's eyes slid open and she lifted her head up. She looked around at her surroundings, noticing that they were still in the limo. She rubbed her eyes will her balled up fists and yawned noiselessly. "Where?" she muttered sleepily.

"Our house," said Jane. "You'll be spending the night here."

Spending the night? At a stranger's house? Maka squirmed. "What about my papa?"

Jane bit her lip and forced a smile. "He was feeling a little ill. So you'll be staying here since he's in no condition to take care of you."

Soul and Wes both got up and walked past them and ran into the large house. The rain had stopped during their ride, but the air was thick with humidity and the gray clouds hung over their heads like watchdogs. They threatened another downpour, maybe planning to drown out the world completely.

"And my mama?" asked Maka.

Jane sighed and lifted her off of her lap. "We're still not sure where she is, honey. I'm terribly sorry."

To Jane's surprise, Maka smiled brightly at her. "It's okay!" she chirped. "I had a dream where I found my mama and she came back to my papa and we were all happy again! I know she'll come back." She hopped out of the car and began walking down the sidewalk, admiring the large mansion and the large yard in front of it. The perfectly green grass sparkled with the remaining drops of rain. The cobblestone sidewalk wound its way through the lawn of green grass and led up to a pair of beautiful black double doors.

Hesitantly, Maka climbed the stone steps leading to the door which was left open by the two boys. She stepped over the threshold and gasped in awe as she took in her surroundings. It was a stereotypical mansion: tiled floors, glass chandelier high above their heads, a grand staircase leading to the upper levels of the house. Potted plants lined the entrance hallway adding a touch of bright color to the dark theme of the rest of the room. The tiles of the floor were checkered black and white and it reminded Maka of a chess board and the week her father had spent teaching her to play the game.

Her thoughts then wandered back to her papa, who was still at home, angry on the outside, but weeping on the inside. It made her want to weep too.

But who could find the time to weep with two noisy boys constantly bugging her?

Wes walked over to her and smiled. "So what do you think of our home?"

Maka took another look around, drinking everything in again, admiration struck on her face a little too obviously. "It's so pretty! Like a castle!" She looked at him. "I've never seen a house this big."

Wes chuckled and crossed his arms. "I'm sure you haven't," he muttered.

Maka turned a questioning eye to him. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked testedly.

The eldest Evans sibling shrugged. "Did you see how shabby your house is compared to our house? Of course you've never seen anything as classy as this," he stated. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and smirked. "Especially your clothes. That's a dead giveaway."

Maka's eyebrow twitched and her eyes narrowed to thin slits. "Makaaaaaaaa. . ."

Wes rose one of his eyebrows in confusion. "Huh?"

"CHOP!"

Doubled-over and clutching his aching head, Wes shouted, "Where did you get that book?"

Maka smiled and tucked the book under her arm. "That's not important." She whipped her head back and forth as if in search for something. "Where's your brother?"

"Right here."

Maka shrieked and jumped away from Soul who had appeared behind her. His hands were stuffed into his pants pockets and his lazy, red eyes bore into hers. Maka frowned. Funny, he wasn't there a second ago. . .

"Okay, boys! Leave Maka alone! She's going to take a bath and change out of those wet clothes!" their mother called as she walked into the room. Once she reached the three children she smiled at Maka and shooed away her own children. "She'll be ready to play later. Until then you can practice your instruments."

Wes shrugged and walked over to the steps leading upstairs. Meanwhile, Soul's shoulders had slumped forward as he gave one more lingering glance at Maka and his mother before following Wes.

Once the two had disappeared from sight, Jane looked down at Maka with her moss-colored green eyes. She placed a thin hand between Maka's shoulder blades as she led her out of the entrance hall into another room. "I'm sure you're uncomfortable in those clothes, so we'll have you take a nice hot bath and then get you changed into some new ones. Okay?"

Maka tugged at her wet shirt and bit her lip. "But I don't have any more clothes. They're at my house." A butler walked past them and gave Mrs. Evans a short "Good Evening" before hurrying down the hallway.

"Don't worry about it. I already have that taken care of. You just worry about getting clean and warm."

Nodding, Maka let Jane lead the rest of the way to the bathroom where a maid sat ready for them. Her dark brown hair was pulled into two tight braids that hung down her front and secured at the ends with small white ribbons. Her eyes matched the color of her hair and had a bit of warmth in them. She smiled at Maka as she walked in cut off the water in the tub. "Hello there! Are you ready for a nice, warm bath?" she asked cheerily.

Maka wavered for a few seconds as she stood staring at the maid from Jane's side. It was so strange how these people were being so nice to her and she hardly knew them. In fact, it scared her a little. It just wasn't something she was used to. It was so weird.

But she took a step toward the maid anyway and whispered a shy, "Yes." Jane patted Maka's head and turned around to leave the room. "I'll be right back. I'm going to pick up Maka's new clothes."

She left Maka alone with the maid who instructed her to remove the wet clothes so that they could be washed. She did and the maid helped her climb into the steaming bath. Maka gave out a cry of relief and pleasure as the warm water hit her cold skin.

A smile crept onto her features as she sank lower into the sudsy water. "Mmmmmm. . .this feels so nice!" The maid pulled the hair ties from Maka's ponytails, letting her hair droop all the way down to her mid-back. Going straight to work, she took a bottle of shampoo and began applying it to Maka's knotted hair.

Maka scooped a pile of bubbles and smiled even wider. "My mama used to give me baths like this all the time. She would brush my hair while I played in the bubbles and sing me songs or tell me stories. My favorite story was about how she and Papa met and fell in love." She blew the bubbles out of her hand, leaving it empty but still cupped as if they were still there. Her smile dwindled until it was replaced by a sad frown. "But then she started getting really sad and tired and stopped singing songs and telling stories. So instead I would tell her stories that I'd read from books." The ash-blonde girl smiled again and scooped up some more bubbles. "She always seemed happier then."

The maid continued to lather the shampoo into her hair. "Sounds like you really love her."

Maka nodded and blew the bubbles out of her hand again. "Yep! That's why I wanted to find her!"

The brunette remained silent for the rest of the bath as Maka told stories of her and her parents and all the good times they've had. But their story-telling was soon interrupted by Jane who entered the bathroom. "Maka! Your clothes are here! Are you ready?"

"Yeah! I was telling Stella about the time my papa took me to the zoo on a school day and when my mama found out she yelled at him!" She laughed behind her hand. "It was funny!" Stella helped her out of the tub and wrapped a red towel around her small body.

"I'll help you get dressed okay? Why don't you head into that room right there?" she said, pointing. Maka nodded eagerly before jogging to the room, clutching the large towel around her tightly.

Stella turned to Jane with a sad expression. "She's conflicted. Her parents seem to be going through a divorce and she doesn't have a clue." She looked down the hallway to where Maka had run off. "That poor child! She doesn't know how to deal with all of this and it's all happening so fast for her. She's so young, too."

Jane nodded somberly. "And that's not even the worse part. Her mother left with no warning and devastated the father. In fact, he so devastated that he's intoxicated himself and is scaring the living daylights out of his daughter!" She walked towards the room where Maka was waiting slowly with Stella close behind.

Stella's eyes widened and glazed over. "I'm not even sure what to say in a situation like that, let alone know what to do. Imagine that for a seven-year-old," she said as they reached the door.

Jane lowered her voice. "Well, make sure you're quiet about this around Maka. We don't want to upset her any further." The maid nodded in agreement as the two ladies stepped into the room to find Maka on the floor, towel wrapped tightly around her.

Upon their arrival, Maka beamed at them. "Hi!" she greeted. She stood up and walked over to them, her hair flopping around behind her. "I'm ready!" she chirped.

Jane and Stella smiled identical forced smiles and walked into the room. Jane reached behind the door and removed a bag with hanger. "Your clothes are in here. Why don't you take a look?" she suggested and held out the bag for Maka.

Maka yanked the zipper down on the bag, excitement winning over modesty easily. She lifted the flap and gasped at the contents inside. "This is for me?" she asked, surprised.

Jane nodded and Maka squealed with delight.

* * *

"Where's Mom? I'm getting hungry," whined Soul. He gripped his stomach with one hand as it shook, declaring its emptiness. He groaned again and banged his head on the dining table.

Wes, who was laid back in his chair, rolled his eyes. "You're always hungry, Soul. You might as well be a bottomless pit."

Soul lifted his head to glare at his brother and gritted his shark-like teeth. "Shut up! That's not the point! The point is that Mom's not here and it's dinnertime!" Another rumble ripped through his stomach and Soul winced. He needed food fast.

"Soul, you need to learn to be more patient!" his mother scolded as she walked into the room. Both Soul and Wes sat up straighter as she walked in and took her seat at the table. "I was getting Maka dressed."

"Sorry, Mommy," apologized Soul as he tucked his hands into his lap. He looked down, feeling a bit ashamed, but more ravenous.

Wes looked around the room. "Where is Maka anyway? Isn't she going to eat dinner with us?"

Jane sighed and turned her head towards the door to the dining room. "Maka, dear! You can come in! There's nothing to be afraid of!" She took her cloth napkin off of the table and placed it into her lap neatly as the door slowly creeped open and Maka poked her head in, taking in the room.

Deciding that she was safe from whatever hidden threat that could've been in the room, Maka stepped into full sight, earning stunned silences from both of the boys. She smiled shyly and whispered, "I've never had a dress this fancy before."

And in fact it was fancy (for a seven-year-old anyway). It was a shadow black dress with short sleeves and a U-collar. Around her waist was a moss-colored silk ribbon that tied into a large, perfect bow in the back. Below the ribbon, the dress fanned out a little more to make it poof up with life instead of hang limply around her legs. Her light brown hair, which looked dull and dark when wet, was dry and brushed into two pigtails, the same as before. They were secured with short black ribbons that were tied into loose, hanging bows. Maka clasped her hands in front of her, still smiling shyly as she made her way to one of the seats. Neither boy took their eyes off of her the whole time.

Wes recovered first. "Didn't know you could dress up so nice," he teased. A smirk turned up the corners of his mouth as he crossed his arms again. "Good job."

"Wes," his mother warned quietly.

Said boy sighed and leaned back. "Sorry."

The chef and his assistants began bringing in delicious-looking dishes of food to which three of the table's occupants gushed over. The last one however. . .

Well, the last occupant couldn't stop staring at Maka. Or rather what she'd become.

She looked so elegant, just like them. There wasn't a trace that she had been wearing soaked jean shorts and tattered T-shirt. She looked just like one of them. Her hair was so straight and neat, brushed precisely, bringing out highlights he didn't know she had. She looked just like one of them. She even had black ballet flats, making her look graceful.

She looked just like one of them.

But was still so unique.

It was just how that he couldn't decipher.

And he was dying to know.

* * *

Nighttime came quickly and the kids were soon put to bed. Jane had ordered a short sleeved pale blue nightgown for Maka to sleep in and showed her to the guest bedroom down the hallway from hers and between the boys' bedrooms. She tucked each of them into bed separately before heading off to bed herself. Wishing them sweet dreams, she headed down the hallway, yawning and anticipating her soft, feather bed.

Maka lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep would not grant its blessing on her as much as she wished for it. She even tried counting sheep, but eventually she got bored of that useless technique and resorted to stating at the ceiling again. Taking a deep breath, she rolled over to her side and curled up into a ball and closed her eyes. She thought of her mother and began singing one of her favorite lullabies to herself quietly, hoping to lull herself into sleep.

She imagined it was her mama singing, rubbing her back, soothing her from her anxieties. Comforting her after a long day. Lulling her to sleep with her lovely, soft and wisped voice. . .

"Hey."

Maka sprung up from bed and looked at the dark figure standing in the doorway. Panic filled her heart for a short second and she squinted into the darkness for a better look. Relief washed through her when she saw the identifiable bleach white spiked hair and sighed.

"What do you want?" she asked, aggravated. Her mother's smiling image was slowly fading from her mind even as she tried to grasp it once more. And it was his fault it was going away.

Soul stood quietly for a moment before turning his back to her. "Follow me," he said and walked out the door.

Maka sat there and considered just lying down and going back to sleep. She could reawaken her mother's image and lull herself to sleep and just ignore him. Besides, she was going back home tomorrow, right? Yet, she couldn't keep her curiosity at bay and so she slid out of the guest bed and walked across the room to the door. She looked down the silent and dim hallway and saw Soul leaning against the wall just outside of a closed off room.

Her bare feet hardly made a sound against the padded carpet in the hall as she made her way to the albino-haired boy. Once she had reached him, she cleared her throat and clasped her hands behind her back, expectant.

Without a word or even a gesture, Soul opened the closed off room and stepped into the opaque darkness. Maka nervously followed and walked cautiously with her hands held out to warn her if she was about to bump into anything.

A _click_ was heard to her left and light illuminated the room. Maka looked over at Soul who had just turned on a lamp and was making his way to a large piano. Maka stared at the grand instrument and shivered. It looked like it could swallow them whole. But since Soul remained fearless as he sat down at the piano bench, she would too. After all, she didn't want to portray herself as some scaredy cat. So she walked over to the piano bench with as much courage as she could muster and plopped herself down on the hard bench next to Soul.

"Start singing."

Maka looked up from her feet up to Soul who was staring at the piano keys. "Huh?"

"That song. Start singing it."

Maka quirked an eyebrow. "Why?"

Soul sighed and closed his eyes. "Just do it, okay?"

Still unsure of what was going on, Maka channeled her mother's voice and concentrated on the song and not who was listening to it. Her eyes slid shut and she began to sway to her own melody as Soul silently listened beside her.

Her voice, though small and innocent, it was also strong and beautiful. It surprised him, but in a way, it was to be expected. After all, she was different from the rest.

His fingers slid across the ivory keys, feeling the sleekness with his fingertips. They were so familiar, but new in a weird sense. Like, he knew what the felt like, but for once, they felt. . .natural. Friendly. Not hard and cold, daring him to mess up, but soft and smooth, urging him to express hisself through music. No, _begging_ him to play.

And so he did.

Maka's voice faltered as the sound of the piano's keys rang throughout the air. She looked at Soul whose concentration was solely on the piano. His head was bent down, his white hair pretty much the only thing visible. But the song he was playing. . .was the song she was just singing.

So she sat there quietly and listened to the wordless version of her lullaby. While she liked hearing the words, the notes were just as gratifying. She continue swaying, her pigtails brushing her shoulders occasionally. She didn't know he was this talented; in fact, she didn't know that he could play the piano. They'd barely spoken except for when she was crying in the rain. He was quiet and introverted; the type of person who was hard to engage in a conversation. It seemed that his brother was the talkative one.

But the quiet ones always had that amazing talent that no one knew about, right? Maybe it was for the best, somehow.

He kept playing, surprisingly not waking up his mother or older brother. So Maka relaxed and let herself enjoy his silent company.

Soon, he stopped playing her song and changed over to something more low key and dark. She opened her eyes and poked out her lower lip in disappointment. The lullaby was so soothing, but this song was beautiful. Extraordinary. This must've been something he learned from a lesson or something.

Feeling a little drowsy, Maka scooted over closer to Soul and rested her head on his shoulder. While she only found this as a way of resting her head, apparently Soul found it disturbing or awkward because he froze immediately. At the stop of the music, Maka shook his arm and let out a groan. "Keep playing! Please?"

After another moment of silence, Soul placed his hands back on the piano keys and started playing the same dark tune. Maka smiled and sighed, content and comfortable once again. "You're really great, you know that? Your music is so pretty."

Soul scoffed, probably offended at his music being called "pretty" but continued to play anyway. He had grown accustomed to the girl laying on his shoulder and played as if she weren't there at all. It all just felt so warm and fluent and he never wanted it to stop. For once, he actually _wanted_ to play the piano.

"Hey, Soul," said Maka.

"Mm-hmm?" he responded, not taking his eyes off of the piano.

Maka bunched up the cloth of her nightgown in one of her small fists and took a deep breath. "Do your mama and papa ever fight and yell at each other? Do they ever say mean things and hurt each other's feelings?"

Soul shook his head and his hair brushed against Maka's head. "Not really. They normally get along just fine." His fingers began to slow down, decreasing the tempo into something more calm and poetic. "And when they do fight they always get over it after a few minutes."

Maka remained silent as she let go of her nightgown and pulled it down over her knees. "You're really lucky then. Your parents are still happy." She reached forward and pulled one of Soul's hands off of the keyboard and gripped it in both of hers. Soul remained frozen as she squeezed his hand tightly and smiled up at him. Her action was so sudden and bold, there wasn't really any other appropriate reaction. But what surprised him the most was her smile. It was clearly there, bright and wide, but anyone who had eyes could see how fake and plastered it was. How much force was behind it. And if you couldn't tell by the smile alone, you could always refer to the obvious pain in her eyes as they hazed over with tears.

"Don't ever let your parents be sad or angry, Soul. Because when they're sad. . ." She sniffled and forced an even larger smile. "You're sad." She dropped his hand into his lap and gave him a short hug before sliding off of the piano bench and leaving the room.

Right before she passed the doorway, though, Soul saw her use her arm to wipe her eyes.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Okay~ I'ma stop here for now. I actually had a little more planned for this, but I was afraid that if I added that, I'd be dragging it out. (I mean, the story's already 6690 words EXACTLY.) If you really wanna see the rest (which is basically just the next morning and then a HUGE time lapse before I have them meet again) either review or PM me. I'm not saying the rest is bad, I just don't wanna make it too long and bore you guys (if I didn't bore you already).**

**Well, anyways, I really hope you guys review. Please? PLEASE? It's my birthday. . .it would make some of the best presents I got (except for the 3rd and 4th SE mangas and part 1 of the anime. NOTHING can top those). **

**Before I go though. I do have something that I'd like to announce:**

As all of you know, it's Christmas time. In honor of this wonderful holiday, I've decided to be generous enough to become a FanFiction Santa! You can request any oneshot to be written by me and I'll **TRY** to have it delivered by Late Christmas Eve/Christmas Day. You may request only the fandoms I know (I'll make a list) and it can be Christmas Themed or not. But warning! You must tell me by **December 18**! I absolutely will not accept any more after that day. And I only have two rules: 1) it must be a oneshot and 2) NO LEMONS! Happy Holidays everyone~

**List of Fandoms:**

-Soul Eater  
-Teen Titans  
-Maximum Ride  
-Astonishing Adventures of Fanboy and Goth Girl  
-Princess Ai  
-Elemental Gelade  
-The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya (Heads up. I've only read the 1st two books)  
-Chobits  
-House of Night  
-Vampire Kisses  
-Tangled  
-Pirates of the Caribbean  
-Kingdom Hearts  
-Avatar: The Last Airbender  
-Degrassi  
-I Am Legend  
-Darkest Powers

**And before I forget (I always tend to) I'ma include the disclaimer.**

**I don't own Soul Eater because apparently, no matter how much I pleaded or mentioned it was my birthday, they would not give it up for free. So, unfortunately, it's not mine. Sorry.**

**Until next time~!**


	2. 075  Mirror

**Mirror**

"I, Maka Albarn, love you, Soul Eater Evans."

Maka clenched her fists at her sides and stared with a fueled intensity that could've burned a hole through steel. But inside her nerves were sawing the threads that held her together one by one. Inside, she was barely holding up.

But she refused to let it show. She was stronger than that. She had, after all, defeated _the_ Kishin. The big guy. Compared to that, this should've been a piece of cake.

But it wasn't.

"I love you, Soul," she said softly. "Sure, you're annoying from time to time, and sometimes there's nothing I want to do more than give you permanent brain damage. You're so stupid and reckless and obsessed with being cool and I _swear_ you use, like, a gallon of hair gel. I don't care what you say. There's no way that's natural." She sighed and lowered her gaze to her shuffling socked feet. The socks had slices of lemons printed on them and the dirty blonde girl felt very childish, confessing her love to such a "cool" guy in lemon socks. But she ignored that thought as she looked forward again, eyes softer and more affectionate.

"But sometimes you're so adorable and cute I can't stand it. And I hate it! You're so. . .so irresistible that it's agonizing!" Maka's hands twitched nervously at her sides so she brought them in front of her to play with the hem of her shirt. They pulled on it tightly, almost as if hanging on the edge of a cliff. Which just about summed up Maka's emotions at that moment.

"And while your hair may be drowned in hair gel, it still looks really cool," she said smiling, knowing her word choice would please him, "and it's unbelievably soft." Her voice became calmer somewhat, and her heart slowed down noticeably. "And yes, you can be lazy, but I appreciate that to a point. In fact, I admire it sometimes. How you, and only you, can calm me down when I'm beyond uptight."

Maka's forest green eyes looked down at her feet for a brief moment, the lemon prints staring back at her cheerily. What if she was saying too much? Or being boring?

Apparently, her mouth didn't give either question much thought because it kept opening and closing, forming words that Maka had almost no control over. And it scared her that she might slip up and say something _really_ stupid and mess up everything.

"Every time you say that you'll always be there, or that you'll always protect me, even if it means that you'll get hurt or die, I can't help but feel so. . .light-hearted and loved," she whispered. "You make me feel warm inside - as cheesy as it sounds - and I can believe that someone truly cares for me.

"Like how you were there after the divorce," she continued. "I hated my dad so much and you understood me when I began to think that every man was like him. Liars, cheaters, dumbass jerks. But you didn't get angry, not even when I accused you of the same." Maka's throat clenched with tension and her struggle to breath grew. She could feel the tears at the base of her eyes, ready to spill over and show how sensitive and weak she really was.

"And I was wrong to do that. I'm so sorry, but I couldn't help it! With my parents and everything that was going on. . .I was confused. And I took my anger out on you." She sniffled and her throat clenched even tighter as she held back her tears, unwilling to let them show, not yet and if possible, not at all.

"But you took it. You understood. And you stayed by my side as I sorted everything out. You cared for me that whole time." Maka's hands released their grip on her shirt and dropped down to her sides again and just hung there limply. Not able to hold them off any longer, Maka blinked and sent the tears trailing down her cheeks and sniffled again. She had lost that battle, unfortunately.

"And I love you for that," she said with a strained voice. "I love you so much."

More tears spilled over her eyes as she lifted her right arm and stretched it out in front of her, reaching. . .

Her soft, small hand touched the cool surface of the glass as Maka stared pathetically at her reflection. Her eyes were turning a light pink and her face was scrunched up from crying and stained with salty tears. She took in a deep, shuddering breath, closed her eyes and leaned forward. Her forehead met her smooth bedroom mirror, tears still running freely from her eyes.

"Now why can't I tell you to your face?"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Review and get more chapters faster!**

**C'mon, you know you wanna.**


	3. 012 Insanity

******Insanity**

What was true insanity?

What is the worst madness?

Did it mean that you were mentally unstable? Unable to comprehend logic? Or possess the inability to understand reality for what it truly was?

Does it include hallucinations? A fantasy world set aside just for you? Things that only you could see or understand? Things that didn't make sense to others, but were elementary subjects for you?

If that's what you believe insanity is, you're only half-right.

True madness isn't as simple as that. True madness toys with your mind. It pulls and pushes it. It twists and turns it. It flips it upside-down and spins it around. True madness is a total mind fuck.

True madness is sanity.

"Insane" or "mad" people have it easy. Everything has an explanation. Everything has a cause as well as an effect. Everything is laid out in front of them, plain to see, all at once. Everything is just one big, perfect picture. Everything makes _sense_.

But for "sane" people, nothing is that simple. Laws and morals clash with each other. Rules are defied by following other rules. Not everything has some kind of reason behind. Some things just are and some just aren't.

Which makes absolutely no fucking sense.

Why is the sky blue or the grass green? Why does the wind blow or the sun shine? Why do some people have blue eyes while others have green? What came first? The chicken or the egg?

All have an explanation. All have a logical answer.

Is magic real? Is there a real God? Is there a Heaven? If so, is there a Hell? What is true evil? Where in the _hell_ did the Lost Colony disappear to?

Not so logical. Not so easy.

Questions that only prove how difficult "sane" people have it. They don't know the answer to everything. Everything must contradict something or have an opposite. Things that just are or just aren't don't fit with another theory or subject. Nothing is clear. The world to them is like a jigsaw puzzle. They only see one piece at a time. They must actually figure it all out.

And it fucks up their minds.

And then there's the last category.

The insane people with a smidge of sanity left. The ones who don't see things the same way as "sane" people, but question things more than "insane" people.

Those people are the ones whose minds are _beyond_ fucked up. Those are the ones who don't know what to choose or where to go. They can't see the line between reality and fantasy. In fact, for them, it just doesn't exist.

These people in the middle – let's called them the "intermediates" – are stuck. They aren't insane, but they're not exactly sane either. For them, there's no real way to go. They can't seem to grasp reality, but they understand it.

The intermediates, the ones stuck in the middle, are the ones with the raging Hell in their heads that they can't rid themselves of. They're always switching, always fading in or out. They can't see the whole picture, but they see more than one piece at a time.

But there is a loophole for these unfortunate souls. They _can_ choose one or the other. Insanity or sanity. Madness or lucidity.

But it means sacrificing everything.

But as long as the Hell disappeared, as long as it was absent, did anything else matter?

Maybe. . .

Maybe that's why it was so easy to give in to the Black Blood.

Maybe that's why, that single life was _insignificant_.

Maybe that's why his screams were just so damn _hilarious_.

Maybe that's why his eyes, the ones that held so much fear before he was slaughtered, were just so _pretty_.

Maybe that's why his blood, the very same blood that resided on her hands, tasted so _delicious_.

Maybe that's why, Maka Albarn, was laughing so effing hard at the fact that her partner and weapon, lay at her feet.

And wasn't breathing.


	4. 037 Eyes

**Eyes**

_Freak._

_Demon._

_Monster._

_Hybrid._

These words, along with others closely relating, were very common for Soul on a daily basis, always directed at him. Of course, he couldn't blame them, not at all. Not that he really appreciated the insults, but at least he could see where they were coming from. In all honesty, he would be the exact same way if he was on their end.

None of that made him feel better though. He was still shunned, teased, and even feared on a few occasions by anyone who gave him a glance. At first, discomfort of being gawked at and avoided drove him to wear hats that covered most of his hair; pushed him to wear sunglasses, even inside or at night; and wear bandanas so that when he opened his mouth, no one could take a peek at the inside. Sure, he looked silly from time to time (especially with the bandanas), but as long as people didn't cringe when he smiled or shy away when he looked at them, it was worth it.

Overtime however, he realized that he just didn't care. These pathetic and weak people weren't worth it – any of it. What did it matter what they thought of his shark teeth? Or his shocking white hair? Or even his eyes that were the color of freshly spilled blood? If people saw him and cowered away, it wasn't his problem. In fact, that way was preferable. Then he wouldn't have to deal with talking to them or put forth the effort to be involved. If they ran away, frightened by his looks, he was better off.

Because he didn't know how to deal with being close to people.

If they ran away first, deciding that he wasn't worth it, then he wouldn't have to. He could also say that they're the ones who didn't give him a chance, not him. Being alone wasn't all that bad. He actually liked it. So much, in fact, that he now looked forward to people wincing at his appearance and to back off and get away from him. His genes made sure that he wouldn't have to interact with anyone ever again.

Until that one agonizing trip to the library.

Stein, Soul's college anatomy professor, decided that his life wouldn't be complete unless he assigned the class a six-page essay describing in detail each joint in the human body, its function, and how it helped humans move and what they'd be like without them. Single-spaced, 12-print font. Due Tuesday. When the class then proceeded to gripe and complain about how it ruined their weekend and partying schedules, another six pages were added. Everyone shut up then, not wanting to irritate the mad scientist any further.

So here he was, in the stuffy local library that smelled like dust and air freshener. Raspberry Febreeze if he was correct. The air conditioner was broken (or so said the sign by the door outside) so once he stepped in, he was hit by a wave of thick hot air. It was cooler outside than it was inside the book-crowded building…and it was 99 degrees Fahrenheit with a heat index of 105.

His research trip was already off to a bad start.

Stripping off his beanie hat, Soul shook out his gravity-defying, sugar-colored hair, freeing it from its confinement. When it stuck to the sweat already beading on his forehead, he asked himself why he was wearing a beanie hat in late spring in a _desert_ in the first place, but put the question aside to look up some books about the human skeleton and such.

Just when Soul was beginning to pluck a few textbooks off the shelves, the nosy librarian sauntered over batting her eyes and shaking out her blonde hair. She was young, his age maybe, and seemed _very_ interested in snatching him up for a night out. Apparently, she didn't mind his hair (she could've thought it was bleached or something), but had yet to see his eyes and teeth. Soul was sure that if she had, she wouldn't have even gazed his way a second time.

"Would you like help with anything, handsome?" she asked and Soul picked up her emphasis on "anything." She was pointedly flirting with him, not even being modest enough to try to be subtle. He got this a lot. Women were becoming bolder by the day.

"Actually I don't." He hoped that he'd only have to go as far as bluntly telling her off, before she'd give up hope and "help" with someone else.

"Are you sure about that? I'd be more than happy to-" She froze and Soul saw her gulp visibly and held back a chuckle. He had turned to look at her with his piercing red gaze in an attempt to scare her off.

And like all the other times he's done it, it worked.

"W-well, if you do happen to need anything….I'm right up front." She seemed reluctant to offer her help now that she had seen him in a view besides the back of his head. Soul bit back laughter as he watched her jog back to the front desk, stumbling on her five-inch high heels. She didn't look back at him.

Soul grunted in triumph.

The heat was starting to really get to him, so with the books he already had, he decided to sit at one of the round tables that the library provided for students to sit and study quietly. He opened up the first book in his stack of paperbound knowledge and delved into the complicated explanations and confusing words that the author must've put in there for "shits and giggles." None of it made sense at all.

Sighing, he closed the book and tossed it aside, picked up the next one and attempted to decipher the elongated words inside.

That's when _she_ appeared.

A girl with ash-blonde hair tied up in a loose bun plopped down with a huff and dropped her tote bag on the floor beside her. Strands of hair fell in her face where she frowned and proceeded to brush them away with her hand, tucking them behind her ear. She closed her green eyes and leaned forward until her head was resting on her crossed arms on the table. Her sagged t-shirt hung off of one shoulder, revealing a white bra strap.

Soul's eye twitched at the sudden interruption from his cram session. How could the girl be so rude to just sit down beside him without so much a word like "hello" or "do you mind if I sit here?" Was his appearance so horrible that no one was willing to talk to him? If so, why was she sitting here?

"Hey," he whispered, keeping in mind that this was the library.

The girl jumped and turned to him, almost as if she didn't know he was there. "Oh! My bad! I didn't realize you were there!" she said, confirming his suspicions. "I hope you don't mind me sitting here. I've had a long day and-"

Soul rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath of annoyance. The blondie seemed like the one who would keep talking and talking even if no one was listening. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just be quiet; I'm studying here."

A flush broke out on the girl's cheeks before she mouthed an inaudible "I'm sorry" and fell silent. Soul turned back to his reading whilst she leaned over and sifted through her bag, "aha"-ing when she gained purchase on her iPod. She stuck the ear buds in her ears and laid down on the table like before, eyes closed as her music lulled her into a tranquil state.

Just as Soul began to register just how the elbow joint bended and contorted if it happen to break, it hit him. Hard. Like a speeding train against a still car.

She had looked at him. Talked to him. Seen his face. All without freaking out, cringing, wincing, or flinching.

Just what the hell…was _wrong_ with this girl? She should've looked away to avoid his evil eyes, cocked an eyebrow at his discolored hair, and shivered at the sight of his carnivorous teeth. Like any normal person. Like any _sane_ person. But here she was, calming listening to her iPod as if he had blonde hair and blue eyes with flat teeth, like he wasn't a freak of nature.

Not even people who claimed to be fearless could face him without feeling a little uneasy. Not even girls who thought he was a little attractive could stare into his eyes. Not even his own friends could avoid being weirded out by his strange looks. So what made this girl, someone he didn't even know, look at him so indifferently? Why wasn't she cowering or shying away?

Why wouldn't she _leave him alone_?

Wanting answers and wanting them now, Soul pulled out one of her earphones and earned a shocked grunt and slap on the arm. "Hey! I was listening to that! It was getting to the good part too!" she protested. Her green eyes narrowed and stared right at him. He expected – no, he hoped – that she would finally realize just how odd he was and shrink away, but she held steady and glared at him without any sort of waver.

"Why?" he shouted in her face, ignoring the shushes from the people at neighboring tables.

The girl tilted her head and rose a single eyebrow in question. "Huh?"

"Why aren't you scared of me?"

It was silent between them for a moment as they both stared each other down, before she scoffed and rolled her eyes. She looked down at her iPod which was still playing and paused it. She turned it off and pulled the other earphone from her ear. "Please, you aren't that intimidating. There are things far scarier than you."

"Yes, but, my eyes."

"What about them?"

"They're red! Like a demon's! And they're natural! Or what about my hair! It's white – also natural! My teeth are razor sharp and could probably tear through your skin if I so pleased! Natural! Why aren't you scared of me?" he repeated, finally losing it over this plain and dull girl. "Most people can't stand me because of the way I look. Even my own friends are uncomfortable around me. What makes you so different?"

The girl stared at him for awhile, longer than he would've liked. Perhaps she was finally taking in his appearance after he brought it up and was realizing that he wasn't so normal after all. She'd get up and walk away, hoping to leave him and his weirdness behind. Maybe all she needed was to have some sense talked into her.

She'd realize what he was and leave. Just like the others always did. And then the cycle would continue, just as it had since he was born with these damned traits.

Finally, she spoke. It all made sense now, why she was different. Why she wasn't afraid of him. Soul couldn't have been more shocked than if she had grown two extra heads.

"I'm blind."

* * *

**Author's Comments:**

**I'm baaaaaaaa~ck. Okay, not really. x_x I never left. Not really. I've just been busy for the past month and haven't been able to write AT ALL. And now I'm going to a softball tournament tomorrow (lol. Today?) out-of-town, so I won't be able to write then either. Depending how well we do, that could be 3 to 6 days.**

**So~ Half a year huh? You know, since I updated this? I'm sorry. _ You have permission to beat me to a bloody pulp if you so wish.**

**I've actually had this idea for awhile now. Of course, it sounded a LOT better in my head, but oh well. What's done is done.**

**Also, please excuse me for the crappy quality of this chapter. I'm tired because it's 4 in the morning and I wanted to update **_**something**_** before I leave for my tournament, and this is the only thing I had energy to write. And as you can see by the shittiness of this, I hardly had energy for it. **

**Ending was rushed. Thoughts were not well played out. Most of this shit was random. Gah. Kill me now. I'm a failure. OTL**

**For those of you who are waiting for **_**Grigori's Promise**_** most of the chapter is already written. :) But I kept getting side-tracked by this TsuxStar oneshot I want to write, so I keep stopping. =_= Again, just go on and kill me**

**Review, please? You are given permission to even tell me how crap this chapter is, just show me that you're there. ;_; Otherwise this story will have its last trip to the fanfiction graveyard. I'd really rather not abandon another story.**

**Review and keep this story alive!**

**Until next time~**


	5. 023 Cat

**Cat**

Blair was a forgetful person. Or rather, an easily distracted magical cat. With the attention span of squirrel there were many things that happened to slip her mind. Some of which that were important and others that were a bit more trivial.

Such as the time that the milk spoiled. She had meant to tell Maka-chan and Soul-kun, she really had! But then she got a call from her friends at the cabaret saying they wanted to go shopping and one thing led to another before she completely forgot. It was funny when Scythe Boy had started to drink out of the carton (which Maka-chan was always yelling at him not to do) and his eyes bugged out. It was even funnier when he slammed the carton down on the table and ran to the sink, spitting up the rotten chunks of milk and gagging for a straight twelve minutes (until Maka came home and demanded why there was a choking Soul-kun strewn over the sink and a guffawing purple kitty on the floor by his feet.

'Course, it wasn't so funny when she was picked up by the scruff of her neck and dropped on the windowsill outside. There wasn't even the slightest hint of hilarity when Maka-chan locked her out for the night to sleep on the windowsill. It definitely wasn't humorous when Bu-tan ended up with a locked up spine and neck that took _forever_ to massage out.

Then there was the one time that Bu-tan had the sleepover while the meister and weapon duo had a mission out-of-state. It was all of her friends from work that decided to gather at Blair's place because she was the only one who didn't have some creep watching her house (Maka-chan and Scythe Boy made sure of that). It was a normal girls' night: snacks, gossip, games and movies. Of course, given their profession, the movies weren't exactly PG-13. It didn't seem like a bad idea at the time; her roommates would never see it. But then she just had to get the camera from Maka's room because Robyn had fallen asleep in the most awkward position and the others were about to play a hilarious prank…

So the movie lay forgotten in the DVD box.

Until Soul-kun decided to watch TV after their exhausting mission. Bu-tan had to hide her giggles as she helped Maka-chan unpack when a loud, throaty moan came from the living room followed by a shocked Scythe Boy's yell of "The hell!"

That situation didn't turn out so well for Blair either, though.

Both of those situations were bad, but as sleep-ridden amber eyes scanned the calendar and landed on today's date, reading the hand scrawled handwriting announcing the major event of the day, Blair knew she had royally screwed up.

"Oh no! How could Blair-chan forget Scythe Boy's birthday?"

Ignoring the fact that she travelled into the kitchen for her morning milk, Blair dashed out of the kitchen into the living room where she found Maka on the couch reading. Briefly stopping to think how odd it was that Maka was up reading so early (and that Bu-tan was actually awake to see this), Blair ran over and jumped on the couch, landing on her hands in knees with her face right next to Maka's.

"Maka-chaaaan~"

"Get your own milk, Blair."

"No, no! That's not what this is about!"  
"I already told you that you can't have fish for breakfast."

"Blair really doesn't see why she can't-gah! No! Blair needs your help!"

Maka paused to turn a page and dog-ear it before closing it and placing it on her lap. She turned around and sighed. If she gave the magical cat-woman her full attention, she'd go away faster.

"With?"

"Well, it's Soul-kun's birthday today and Blair hasn't gotten him anything," Blair replied sheepishly, twiddling her fingers. "Blair-chan was hoping you'd lend me some money so she could-"

"No."

"Maka-chan! Please?"

"I'm not giving you my money so you can waste it on some gift he won't even like."

Blair sat back on her haunches and huffed, crossing her arms. It'd do Maka some good to have a little faith in her. She wasn't the best shopper, but she most definitely was _not_ the worst. She'd figure something out decent enough to satisfy Soul-kun for his birthday.

"Well what else can Bu-tan do?"

"Be creative, Blair."

Bu-tan was creative. She was very creative and artistic in her own way. Unfortunately, Maka-chan didn't appreciate her imagination. Especially when she tested it out on Soul-kun. That kind of stuff was now banned from their household (so she just did it in public now).

"But Maka-chan doesn't like it when Blair's being creative."

The scythe meister halted in her move to open her book, Blair's words catching her roughly. A sudden image of bulbous breasts, blood spouting from Soul's nose, shattered glass, yelling and bruises played in Maka's inner mind theater. It wasn't as routine for them as it used to be, but Maka could still remember in crystal clear picture of when it used to be. In retrospect, it probably wasn't all that fair that Soul got all of the abuse when it was technically Blair's doing. Then again, it was _him_ who was being the pervert. So he shared the blame somewhat.

Thinking about going back to those days made Maka shudder. She had never particularly enjoyed waking up to Blair smothering her partner with her bosom. It just ignited this irritated feeling in the bottom of her stomach which left her in a bad mood for the whole day. Not envy, mind you. Maka Albarn did not get jealous.

"Then, do something else. Think about what he likes."

Blair let out a high-pitched whine and flopped on her stomach, resting her head on Maka's lap. "But he likes a lot of things! How can Bu-tan choose just one?"

Maka shrugged and slid her book from underneath the magical feline's head. "No one said you have to. Combine some of his interests if you want."

The pout remained on Blair's face, however comforting Maka tried to be. She wasn't good at these things. She wasn't very good at picking out things for people, or deciphering what they would want or like. In fact, she just didn't like thinking about other people's thoughts period. She wasn't selfish, but she wasn't exactly a charity-working nun either (her wardrobe was plenty proof of that).

Maka was better at these kinds of things, especially when it came to Soul-kun. She knew exactly what he liked, what he hated, what pissed him off, what relaxed him, what could cheer him up….

A brilliant idea struck Blair. She sprung up from Maka's lap, earning a grunt of annoyance from said girl, a large smile splitting her face in half. "Maka-chan! Blair knows what to do! You just tell Blair something that Scythe Boy really, really likes and she can go get it for him! Huh? How about it?"

All hope for her genius plan deflated when Maka shook her head and opened the book again. "Sorry, Blair. I'm not helping you."

"Bu-but Bu-tan can't think of anything he likes!" Silence filled the air and gave the cat time to think about her statement. Well, that wasn't entirely true. There were some things that she knew that Soul-kun liked.

For one: Her skimpy clothing. Sure, he didn't appreciate the fact that she always seemed to showcase said clothing like a runway model around the house. But that was only because Maka-chan was watching him. Blair could always see him hide his nosebleed when her chest jiggled a little too much.

Two: He liked cats. Well, mostly just her. He liked petting her and scratching her ears for her. He even did it when she wasn't in cat form. It was also obvious that he didn't feel obligated to do it. He took some pleasure from it too. "It calms me down" he had said once.

Three: Music. Especially that jazz stuff. He was always listening to it. But he only liked records when it came to jazz. "CDs don't capture the feel of it like a classic record can."

Four: Raw fish. Something Blair and Soul-kun had in common. Maybe she could order out sushi. Then they'd all be happy. Well, with the exception of Maka and Blair's wallet (or rather Maka's since all the money in Blair's wallet came from the ashen-blonde haired girl).

This was harder than it should've been. Why couldn't she just pick out something and give it to him? Why did she have to think so much for something that only lasted a day? Crossing her legs and placing her head in her palm, Blair furrowed her brow and started thinking harder. When she came up empty for ideas, she thought even harder.

And harder.

And harder.

And even freaking harder.

Giving up after two minutes of thinking (which is impressive considering it's the longest she's ever been so completely focused on one thing), Blair looked back over at Maka who had delved back into the world of reading. She really wanted to ask the meister once more for assistance, but she was so engrossed her in book, she probably wouldn't even notice the cat's pleas for help.

Well, trying never hurt anyone.

"Maka-chaaaan~ I still can't think of anything~"

No response. She was either being ignored or Maka really had lost herself in that book and was completely shut out from the world. Best to try again.

"Hey, Maka-chaaaan~ I need your help still nyan~"

Same response: nothing.

Another brilliant thought occurred to the violet-haired feline as she glared at the blonde meister, watching carefully how her even and calm breathing made her camisole straps slowly but surely slide down her shoulders. A curled smirk found its way across her lips as her eyes narrowed in success. Bingo.

"Oh, Maka-chan~ I think I've figured out Soul-kun's birthday present!"

* * *

A content yawn passed the albino's lips as he stretched his arms above his head, his knuckles grazing the cool wood of his headboard. A smile settled onto his mouth as he finished his yawn and he looked up at his ceiling with calm eyes.

He was well-rested and felt relaxed and tranquil. No bitchy Maka screaming at him to get up or threatening him with encyclopedias that only losers with no lives would bother to read, let alone write. No missions to take on for the day as Shinigami thought it'd be nice if he and Maka took a short weekend break to chill and sit back (to which he had no problem accepting). It was his birthday and his birthday was going to be perfectly cool. Just like cool guys like him deserved. Maybe Maka had even made him lemon cake, his favorite.

"Oh Scythe Boy! Blair-chan has your present all ready for you!"

Hold that thought. This day _just_ may take a turn for the worse in the next three seconds.

The person who threatens to ruin his cool seventeenth birthday, dressed in khaki booty shorts and a blue and purple striped tube top, bounded into his room, smiling large enough to chase away a hurricane. Soul felt himself tense and prepare himself for the pouncing, but it never came. She just stood there with that goofy grin, fangs poking out of her plump, lip-gloss-covered lips.

When he continued to sit on his bed looking at her in confusion, the smile fell from her face to be replaced with an irritated scowl. With a roll of her eyes and a huff, she marched over to his bed and wrapped a slender arm around his arm, easily dragging him from his bed in one swift pull, surprising him with her hidden strength.

"Ow! What did you do that for?"

He didn't receive a response for his attacker was already sauntering out of the room, hips sashaying side-to-side in a hypnotizing trance many men fell under. It wasn't until she was already out the door that she called back, "Bu-tan told you, your present's ready! Now hurry up!"

Upon hearing that he had gotten a present (from Blair no less), Soul jumped to his feet and ran a hand through his unruly hair, hardly making a difference to the mop of white strewn all over his head. His walked out of the room after Blair into their living room, grumbling about how it was uncool to wake a guy up on his birthday to cover up his childish excitement. When he got to the living room, his eyebrows shot up to his hairline and if you listened closely enough, you could hear him inhale a sharp breath.

A dark green box with a red bow on the top sat on the floor and next to it stood a very eager Blair with a camera, poised and ready to snap a photograph to capture the moment. None of that surprised him, not even Blair with her camera (she had become obsessed with pictures since they got her the dumb thing last Christmas). What surprised him was the size of the box.

It was as wide enough to where he could press up against it and one side would measure up to his arm span and it was up to Blair's neck in height (and she was around 6'3"). Whatever the sexy anthromorph had gotten him, it had to be _huge_.

"Ta da!" she exclaimed, deciding that now was the perfect time to take a picture. The flash blinded him, making dark bubbles float around in his vision for a few seconds. "Happy Birthday, Scythey Boy!"

Rubbing the back of his head and treading carefully towards the box, Soul groaned. "I really wish you wouldn't call me that."

A small pout took place on Blair's lips before she shook it off and started smiling again. "Blair can't stay sad for long," she explained. "She's too excited for when you open your present!"

Soul eyed the box wearily. "One of your cabaret friends isn't going to jump out of there, are they? I don't feel like dying of a heart attack on my birthday."

Blair rolled her eyes. "You know Maka banned any of them coming near your apartment since the sleep-"

"DO NOT…remind me of that," said Soul with a shudder.

A girly giggle passed the violet-haired cat at Soul's discomfort as he reminisced to the horror he came home to. "Well, well~ Aren't ya gonna open it?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Should I?"

"Of course you should!"

Soul nodded and placed a hand on top of the lid to the box. He made a move to lift it then paused, slowly putting it back down. "Hey, where's Maka? Don't you think she'd want to see this?"

Blair blinked once, then twice, then a third time before waving her hand passively. "Eh. She's doing something for your birthday. You'll see her soon enough."

"Are you su-"

"Just open the damn thing before Blair claws your face off!"

"Fuck woman! Don't rush me!"

Blair sighed and raised the camera again. "Just go."

Soul shrugged, wondering if he should just wait until he's not alone with Blair to open whatever the hell is hiding in that box because he is almost 100 percent positive that whatever it is wants to attack him. Whether to harm or molest him, he'd have to find out.

Opening the box lid at a pace that could compete with a slug, Soul pried the lid off the box, eventually dropping it to the floor where it landed with a dull _thud_. It wasn't heard over Soul's panicked shout however and him stumbling backwards over the coffee table. Blair laughed and took a picture of Soul's acrobatics, blinding him once more as his present started to crawl out of the knocked over box towards him, mewling softly.

"Nyan~"

"Blair! What in all this is Shinigami did you do?"

"Well, Bu-tan thought it'd make a nice present…"

"Nyan~"

"How in the hell did you think it'd make a nice present?"

"Nyaaaaan~"

"Well, I just thought of all of the things you liked and combined some of them together….."

"Blair, I don't know WHAT you were thinking at the time but-"

"Nyan~"

"This isn't funny!"

"Nyan?"

"Stop backing away, Soul-kun! She's gonna think you don't like her!"

"To be honest, I'm kinda scared of her right now!"

"Nyan?"

More flashes went off as Blair took more pictures, muttering things like "I love this one" or "I can't wait to show everyone at the club!"

"Blair," Soul choked out, falling flat on his back. "Please, for the love of all Death, _change her back_."

"Nyan~" shouted Maka cheerfully, taking her chance and pouncing on the fallen Soul, straddling him as her tail swished enthusiastically. She placed her hands on his chest and licked his cheek. "Sooouuuuul-kun~" she chirped.

"Oo~ Go on and say what we practiced, Maka!"

Soul cocked his head in confusion – at whatever they had practiced and just everything that was going on in general – before Maka sat up, sitting on his waist and lifting her arms up in the air. The green sweater she was wearing was a size too big and the sleeves slid down past her hands, concealing them behind green-colored cotton. The shoulder of the sweater slid off of her shoulder to reveal pale skin underneath and nothing else.

"Happy Biiiiirthdaaaay, Soooooouuuuuul-kuuuuuuun!" she shouted proudly.

Maka fell forward again, snuggling her head in the crook of Soul's neck, tickling him with her new ash blonde ears. She wrapped her arms around his torso and squeezed his hips with her legs tighter. "I looooooove yooooooouuuu."

The human weapon shot upwards on knee-jerk reaction, only to bang his head on the coffee table – hard – and promptly pass out on the floor, kitty Maka still on top of him with Blair _still_ taking pictures.

Yes, Blair was a very forgetful person. But with forgetfulness came good times in the Evans-Albarn household.

Delicious, funny good times.

* * *

**Author's Comments:**

**I pulled an all-nighter for this. And it's still crap. ;_; I've gotta stop writing things on impulse in the middle of the night.**

**Anyways~ Hey guess what guys? owo I got a twitter account. Why should you care? Because I'm using it to keep a constant update on where I am in my stories since it's too much work to do it on my fanfic profile and my devArt. :l Twitter is a lot easier. If you want to follow me so you know where I am in a certain chapter/oneshot/story, the link is on my profile page.**

**Back to the story!**

**I've been wanting to do a kitty Maka story for a loooooong time. But everyone kept taking my ideas. ;_; And that made me sad. But I found a way out. :D 'Cause I'm awesome.**

**w00t! Guess who's shoppin' for glasses today! Me! Don't know why I'm excited :/**

**I listened to Nyan Nyan by Ranka Lee the ENTIRE time I was writing this. e_e And I kept imagining kitty Maka doing the dance. Someone needs to make that. Now. Right now. And send me a link.**

**The ending did not go as planned. I was originally gonna have him faint from a nosebleed while Maka was still IN the box and Blair was going to say, "Well Blair thought it was a good present." But I found the thought of Maka crawling out of the box towards a panicking Soul much cuter and funnier.**

**I am so tired. I hope you guys appreciate this. I lost good hours of sleep over it. Well, that and I stayed up to read fanfics BUT THAT'S BESIDES THE POINT! This isn't about me.**

**Hey, um. If anyone's willing, I'd love a beta reader. :D I'm finally pushing my pride off to the side to ask for one. I'm not going to need one all the time, I just need one when I feel a chapter/update's off or when I need to bounce ideas off of someone.  
**

**Reviews? Please? I'm begging you. Make this fic (which I slaved over all night) worth my while. PLEASE**

**Until next time~!**


	6. 050 Breaking the Rules

**I did this real quick to make up for my latest update of **_**Exchanges**_** because apparently I made people cry. D: SO THIS IS FOR YOU GUYS!**

* * *

**Breaking the Rules**

"Okay class! I have your next assignment!"

Maka slowly raised her head from her book, transferring her attention from the tragic tales of Romeo and Juliet to her tech teacher, who was slouched in his desk chair wearing casual shorts and sandals. He was nowhere near as interesting as Shakespeare's angsty romance story contained forbidden love and warring families, but he was still the adult in the room. Although, he didn't like to think so most of the time, asking students to call him "B.J." since it was a cool nickname compared to the formal "Mr. Buttataki." Add the casual clothes he wore and the fact that he refused to wear glasses (which would indicate he was getting old) he was just one of them. The only thing that would give him away was his obsession with coffee. He drank so many cups a day (the proof was in his waste bin) it was a wonder he didn't explode from overdose on caffeine.

As soon as the rest of the class gave the teacher a portion of their attention, the other part focused on whispered conversations with those next to them, B.J. went into details on what they were to do.

With a partner, they were to go around the school with a camcorder and interview teachers and students. They were to ask questions concerning the brand new technology the school had received and record it to bring back to class and edit to turn it in. They had the whole class period to interview and were allowed to edit the next class in case they didn't finish the interviewing before class ended.

By this time, most of the students perked up at the knowledge that they'd be able to roam the halls instead of sitting in their stuffy classroom. Nods and silent agreements to pair up were seen left and right, hardly contained smiles lighting up their faces. Maka sighed and propped her head on her palm, not looking forward to picking her partner.

Maka Albarn wasn't popular. She wasn't exactly a geek or nerd either, but she wasn't one of the "cool kids." She was the teacher's pet, the over-achiever, candidate for valedictorian. In fact, she was already picked to be the one to send off her graduating class and had half her speech written. So she wasn't an outcast, but this was a class where no one paid attention to her.

Well, a couple did, but she _not_ wanted to be either of their partners under any circumstances. She would go off by herself before agreeing to work with her bitter rival or…._him_.

The buzz of excited chatter erupted as B.J. leaned over to open a drawer. Verbal confirmations of partnerships were heard as Maka squirmed uncomfortably. She ducked her head back into her book, pretending that she didn't notice. But the feeling of his eyes boring into her back was too difficult to ignore. Her hair stood on the end at just the thought of him sauntering down the aisle, bending low to her ear and requesting to work together with that stupid smirk on his face as everyone watched.

_Please don't come over here; please don't come over here, __**please!**_

The metal drawer shut with a _clang_ and the entire class halted to a stop, looking up at the front where B.J. still sat relaxed. A line of camcorders, shiny from just coming out of their boxes, sat on his desk, stealing all of the light in the room and basking in it greedily. All eyes settled on the new tech, oblivious to the clipboard B.J. was now scanning with squinted eyes.

"Alright. Now, I will be assigning your partners to you, so listen up."

The excitement rushed out of the open classroom door and exiting the room completely, leaving them all with the bitter taste of disappointment and lost hope. Names were called, people were paired, some grumbling about who they were forced with, other celebrating when that got the partner of their choice anyway.

"Ox and Harvar."

Maka felt her body deflate in a sigh of relief. She'd avoided being paired with her academic enemy. Ever since it'd been announced that she was valedictorian, their feud grew stronger and stronger. But their rivalry went way back, seventh grade if she called correctly.

Ox had always been the top student. There wasn't a person in DWMA Middle School who came close to challenging his high IQ in the slightest. He took great pride in this fact, bragging whenever he found the opportunity. However, his reign soon ended when Maka had transferred to Nevada from Japan when she was thirteen. His title was quickly stolen by the shiny foreign exchange student, her brains gaining respect from teachers and her foreign ways attracting most students.

They'd been butting heads ever since.

He got second place in the science fair. She won first.

He was feature in the school newspaper for his history project. She was interviewed on the local news for a community project she was running.

He aced the math exam. She was asked to help tutor college students in a math level below her.

He won the spelling bee. She had a poem published for the world to see.

No matter what he tried, she was always one step ahead. The tension between the two lasted all through high school and teachers all around learned quickly to keep them as separated as possible.

B.J. was a smart man.

More names were read off the list, but never hers. And what worried her was that _his_ remained unspoken as well. You know, it'd be just her luck to actually be –

"Maka and Soul."

Paired with him.

The blood left her face so quickly that it rendered her dizzy and stunned. Her stomach fell off the edge it had been teetering on, plummeting into a bottomless pit, urging her to empty her lunch right then and there. Maka hardly registered the hushed snickering from Soul's gang of friends or the grunts of annoyance from some of the girls who wished to be partnered with the hottest guy in school.

Oh no.

This would prove to be a problem.

Still a little out of her mind, Maka dared to look over her shoulder where she knew he'd be sitting. And there he was, smirking at her and basking in the small triumph he had achieved. If she studied him close enough, she would've seen the way his bottom lip twitched and how his eager tongue occasionally poked out of his teeth. But the only thing that was paying attention to were his crimson eyes.

He had_ that_ look in them.

Oh no. This would not be good. Not at all.

She whipped her head around with her pigtails flying behind her, the uneasiness in her stomach doubling as her mind wandered. She knew what this partnership meant and she wanted no part in it. Her hand shot up in the air, silently and desperately asking for acknowledgement.

"Maka?"

"Um, Mr. Buttataki, would you reconsider my partnership and make some changes?" she asked feebly. In the background, she heard girls whispering about how she was crazy not to want to be with Soul, but she ignored them. She just sat there and waited for her teacher's answer with Soul's eyes boring into her back.

"I'm sorry, Maka. My decisions are final."

His smirk grew wider. Her stomach dropped further.

Her head hit the desk forcefully and she groaned.

She was in some deep shit now.

* * *

"Alright, Ox. I think that's enough footage. Let's get back to the classroom and turn this in." Harvar turned off the camcorder and tucked it into his jacket pocket.

Ox grinned widely and nodded, strutting down the hallway with vigor. "Sweet! I bet that since she's paired with that slacker Soul Eater, Maka isn't even halfway finished! Finally! She won't best me this time!" He laughed wickedly, earning him a concerned look from Harvar.

"Dude, this competitive obsession of yours is probably unhealthy. Give it a rest why don't you?"

"Genius never rests," retorted Ox, shoving his hands into his pants pockets.

Harvar shrugged and remained silent, deciding that his friend was just another lost cause. If the guy wanted to be crazy competitive, then by all means, he was going to be. There wasn't much Harvar could do.

"So how do you want to go about the editing?" Ox asked. "We should start planning now, so we won't have much more work to do when we get back to the classroom."

Harvar shrugged. "I don't even know what the program's called, much less what it does."

Ox grinned and pulled his hands out of his pockets, placing one of them on Harvar's shoulders. "It's okay. I have the same program installed to my computer at home. I know all the tricks to it."

Harvar shook his head sadly. "You have too much time on your hands."

Ox opened his mouth to say something else when a quiet moan sounded in the empty hall. The two froze with wide eyes, looking down the hall where the source of the sound came from. Both boys turned appropriate shades of red once out of their initial stage of shock.

The first to recover was Harvar, fading back into his passive façade and cleared his throat. He suggested the go another way to leave the couple to their privacy. Ox argued that it was a public school; there was no privacy. Plus, the couple was obviously in violation of the rules since they had probably skipped class to have a make-out session in the middle of the halls without fear of being caught. Harvar rolled his eyes at his friend's logic and was about to say that he just didn't want to bother with any of this when another sound came from around the corner. A grunt, another moan, and then the sound of metal being hit.

"Seriously Ox, let's just-"

"Wait! Soul!"

"…..Go."

The second star student blanched in horror and tensed, disbelief playing across his face. His buddy's reaction was similar. Soon, the disbelief was replaced by an amused and mischievous smile and an evil gleam shone in his eyes. Without a word, he reached into Harvar's pocket and retrieved the camcorder. It chimed to life after her flicked the power switch and Harvar flinched, hoping they hadn't been heard. Judging by the quiet but heavy breathing from around the corner, they hadn't.

He watched in cold realization of what was about to transpire when Ox tiptoed over to the corner, back pressed against the wall as he peeked at the couple in the hall. Ox's face lit up like a Christmas tree and his finger pressed the record button.

"Bingo."

Reluctantly, Harvar followed and peeked too, just out of curiosity, and wished he hadn't.

Of all the people he expected to be making out in the middle of the hallway, Soul and Maka never would've crossed his mind. Not even if he were drunk. Or high. Or _both_. It was that unbelievable and impossible in his eyes. So what he was seeing in front of him had to be some kind of hoax or illusion.

Yet there they were. In a heated lip lock. His arms wrapped around her waist and her legs wrapped around his. Maka's hair had been pulled out of their usual pigtails. It was an odd sight. She _never_ came to school without her pigtails. Come to think of it, it may have been possible that no one's ever seen her without them.

"This is perfect," whispered Ox, grinning like a maniac. It was starting to scare Harvar a bit. "Once this gets out, her reputation will crash and burn!"

"Ah!"

Whatever Harvar had planned to say to his companion was quickly forsaken as he whipped his head back up to the couple before him, only to avert his gaze to the tiled floor with a burning blush present on his face. The sight of her completely unbuttoned oxford shirt and Soul's face buried in her chest burned in his mind and the need for brain bleach was dire.

"So why did you request for a different partner? Hmmm? Maka-chan?"

Harvar glanced back up out of the corner of his eye to see Soul nipping occasionally on Maka's collarbone, leaving a few teeth marks in his trail. Her hands twitched to his hair, clenching silver locks between her fingers.

"Because…I knew you'd pull something like this," she rasped out.

He chuckled into her skin and Harvar could literally see her shuddering from where he was standing. Her eyes closed tightly and she whimpered when his teeth grazed her neck. "And that's so bad?"

"It is….when we're in school," she retaliated, trying her best to glare at the man who was languidly traveling back to her cleavage. Which, despite popular belief and what most of the guys laughed about in the locker rooms, was very nice.

"C'mon, Maka. Live a little."

"Gold! This is gold!" Ox exclaimed in a hushed whisper, drinking in every action, every word with a bit too much enthusiasm.

"Soul….Soul quit it! What if someone sees us?"

"Good. That way they'll know you're mine, Albarn." He nuzzled her cheek and brought his hands up her arched back, stroking her smooth skin. "I don't want to pretend anymore. I want them to know."

"But I-"

Soul cut her off by thrusting his hips forward, causing friction between the two of them. Maka squealed in surprise and shoved her face in his neck, breathing heavily from the single motion. Her blush burned with the power of a thousand suns, radiating and warming Soul's neck aiding her hot breath. Soul chuckled at her reaction and brought his hands back down to Maka's hips.

"So I take that as permission to continue?"

"Soul I never said-"

"Your wish is my command."

"Soul!"

At that moment, Harvar had already seen and heard enough to know what was about to happen and what would happen to them if they were caught watching. "Ox, maybe we should just go and leave them alone. This is personal and not something you should be recording. Get your revenge another way."

Ox ignored him, his focus and attention only on the camera capturing all of the action between the two secret lovers before them. Harvar crossed his arms and scowled yet refused to leave his side. Deep down though, things were definitely getting interesting here and Harvar wasn't going to turn down the opportunity presented to him. Bookworm, teacher's pet Maka with school hottie, slacker Soul? He would bet on people actually paying to see this.

Soul at this point has finally managed to coax Maka into relaxing and enjoying and was now in the process of grinding up against her while she tightened her legs around his waist and her already tight grip on his hair. His face had returned to her now bouncing breasts, something that seemed to delight all three males in the hallway. Maka's face could've put a tomato to shame. Desperate whimpers and high-pitched squeals escaped her parted lips, piercing through Harvar each and every time.

Soul Eater Evans was dry humping Maka Albarn into oblivion.

And he and Ox had front row seats.

He takes everything from before about wanting to leave back. This was officially the best class ever.

"Ah! Oh God...Soul!"

A long, drawn-out whine pierced the hallway and both Ox and Harvar tensed up, expecting a teacher to walk out of any of the classrooms to inspect the commotion. When none came, they turned back to the scene before them and noticed that the grinding had increased in speed and urgency.

"Ah! Soul! So…ul~ I'm…I'm….Ohhh!"

Harvar glanced down at his partner to see blood flowing freely from his nose as he watched the screen on the camcorder. Harvar reached up to check his own nose and, sure enough, blood was flowing freely from his nose too.

"Oh!"

"Beg for it, Maka."

"But…"

"Beg."

She didn't say anything, leaving the hall in silence except for the soft sound of cloth rubbing against cloth and small whimpers. Harvar and Ox held their breath, for a reason unknown to them both as they awaited her answer.

"Ohhh. Please! Oh dear fucking Lord, _please Soul! Faster!_"

They heard Soul chuckle before the shuffling became faster, just as Maka had requested. A strangled series of barely contained whimpers resounded throughout the empty halls.

Harvar could tell that they were both close and decided that if they didn't leave now, they may not live to see tomorrow. He tapped Ox's shoulder and successfully gained his attention. "I think we should leave now." He grabbed the back of Ox's shirt and pulled, anxious to leave quickly and quietly.

"Are you kidding me? This is the best part!"

Harvar tugged on his shirt again but with more force. "Ox, now!"

"No!"

Unfortunately for them, their little scuffle did not go unheard.

The shuffling had stopped abruptly and the hallway became as silent as a graveyard for the next few seconds. Harvar gulped and let go of Ox's shirt to find his hand trembling. The hallway would become their graveyard in the next two seconds if they didn't take off right that very moment. But his legs locked up underneath him, preventing him from making a heady escape. Instead, he look up to see Maka and Soul still in the same position as before, starting right back at them.

"Oh no! Oh God, oh no, _shit!_" Maka shouted, removing her hands from Soul's hair to cover her red face.

Snapping back and gaining control of his legs again, Harvar pulled at Ox's shirt one last time. "Ox! Now!" He turned around swiftly and getting ready to run. Before he could even take two steps though, he felt a hand on his shoulder, yanking him back and turning him around to come face-to-face with canine teeth and devil eyes.

"Now," Soul drawled, his voice laced with annoyance at being interrupted, "Where are you two gentlemen off to in such a rush?"

Ox gulped beside him, attempting to discreetly hide the camera, but it was too late. Soul had seen everything. _Everything_.Harvar recalled both of their nosebleeds.

They were in for it now.

* * *

Maka slumped against Soul and felt his arms wrap around her shoulders, warming her from the cold, outside air. She nuzzled his jacket with her frozen nose, attempting to heat it with friction. "And why can't we go inside? It's freezing out here."

"Because I wanna sit out here. And it's easier to get caught skipping class if you're still inside the building."

Maka flinched at the words "skipping class" and shivered. "Well, if you're going to have me skip a class for the first time ever, can't you at least take me someplace warmer?"

Soul smirked and patted the top of her head. "I thought Miss Teacher's Pet didn't want anyone to know that we were an item."

She sighed, her warm breath taking shape into a cloud-like puff before dissipating in the cold air. "Well, with what just happened last period, I don't think that's possible anymore."

Soul rolled his eyes. "I made sure that they'd stay quiet didn't I? Stop worrying. It's not attractive." He reached down to her lap and grabbed her hand, covering his with his much larger and much warmer one. "Why don't you ever wear gloves, Stupid?"

Maka huffed in annoyance and headbutted his chest. "You got my favorite white ones dirty remember? Anyway, I'm not worried. Just….upset, I guess. Also, was it really necessary to break their camera?"

"They were recording us."

"And you couldn't have just deleted it?"

He shrugged and yawned in a bored manner. "Not as cool and intimidating."

Maka rolled her eyes and shook her head, muttering about how her boyfriend was an idiot while he laughed into her hair. They sat in silence for awhile, just enjoying each other's presence (and warmth) as they leaned against the brick wall of the school building, watching cars pass by.

"Hey, Soul?"

"Mmmm?"

"Let's go to a café. I'm way too cold to be sitting out here for much longer."

"And what about people finding out?"

Maka smiled and kissed his chin before climbing out of his lap, leaving him suddenly cold. She turned around and reached out a hand for him to grab and giggled.

"I'm tired of pretending too."

* * *

**Bonus ending!**

"So, care to explain to me how the camcorder broke?"

Harvar sighed and leaned against the classroom wall as he watched his partner tremble before their teacher, looking ready to shit himself. Before he could soil his pants, Harvar stepped in and calmly explained the lie they had set up before entering the classroom. "I was walking and tripped on my shoelace and the camera was in my pocket. I landed on it and it just smashed into little pieces."

B.J. nodded and looked between the two, studying their expressions closely before scooping the sad remains of what used to be a shiny new camcorder into his trash can. "Well, not much I can say here. But you two will have to pay for a new one."

"We understand, sir," Ox said weakly, head hung in deep shame.

B.J. waved his hand, dismissing them silently and the two boys let out a sigh of relief, glad to get off the hook so easily. They were just out the door of the classroom when B.J. called out to them.

"And next time you want to spy on someone making out, don't! I don't want anymore broken school property and I'm sure you don't want any broken bones!"

The pair froze in their tracks and looked back at their teacher who was sifting through papers as if he hadn't said a word. The two shuddered and finally knew exactly why all the seniors before them had called him the "Mole-striking Joe Buttataki."

* * *

**Author's Comments:**

**Lol. The ending was completely necessary. I know that in order to detect lies he needs to tough his fist to the person's chest, but I figured since this was an AU oneshot I could bend that a bit. Besides, it'd be kind of awkward if your teacher did that to you.**

**Doh! This chapter is the reason I have to change the rating now. :/ Ah well. Can't be helped I guess.**

**This chapter was inspired by a project I had to do last year in 8****th**** grade. It was for some tech class and we had just transferred all the gifted kids (from 3****rd**** to 8****th****) to their own school. Our teacher made us walk around and go to different teachers to interview them and students on what they thought of the transition. But we were okay with this because we all pretty much hated her and the more time we were away from her, the better off we were.**

**Although, we got to pick our partners, and I'm 99.99% positive that there wasn't any making out during this time. **

**Reviews are love~ **

**Until next time~!**


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